


And then, who knows…

by ApacheLongbow



Category: Deus Ex (Video Games), Deus Ex: Mankind Divided
Genre: Action/Adventure, Anal Sex, Canon-Typical Violence, Darrow Deficiency Syndrome (DDS), Double Agents, Drinking, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Feelings, Feelings Realization, Getting Together, Hotel Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Missing Scene, Mutual Pining, Neuropozyne Withdrawal, On the Run, Post-Mission, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Tension, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room, Sleepy Cuddles, Touch-Starved, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:21:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29438190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApacheLongbow/pseuds/ApacheLongbow
Summary: For the first time, they are in front of each other and there are no enemies nearby. And Jensen manages to take a full look at his companion in misfortune and lays his eyes on the black, alive like a snake skin, tattoos, tracking how they disappear close to thick gloves. Then looks up to see the sparkle from the earring, and, in the end, stumbles upon the twinkle of sly, but painfully tired eyes. Belatedly, Adam realizes his curiosity has been noticed.
Relationships: Adam Jensen/Hector Guerrero
Kudos: 42





	And then, who knows…

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [А потом, кто знает...](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/760872) by BloodStripe. 



“Seems like I tricked you, Walthers, there’s no fucking piña colada here…”

Guerrero’s clicking his tongue irritably while turning over another box in the VTOL, and once again finding nothing useful.

“Argh, these shitheads don’t drink or what?”

Adam, though dead tired, is managing to show some semblance of a smirk, “Did you really think the prison staff was drinking cocktails in their VTOLs? Don’t make me laugh, Mejia…”

“They may not be drinking _only_ cocktails,” Hector’s defiantly rolling his eyes, “but they definitely must have some alcohol, right? Otherwise, what are they doing throughout the entire flight to the civilized world?”

Adam’s raising his eyebrows in amazement, “Sleeping?”  
  
“Ha-ha, very funny.”

Mejia finally calms down and, luckily for Adam, stops walking around in circles in the VTOL, sitting back in a hard seat instead. For the first time, they are in front of each other and there are no enemies nearby. And Jensen manages to take a full look at his companion in misfortune and lays his eyes on the black, alive like a snake skin, tattoo sleeves, tracking how they disappear close to the thick gloves. Then looks up to see the sparkle from the earring, and, in the end, stumbles upon the twinkle of sly, but painfully tired eyes. Belatedly, Adam realizes his curiosity has been noticed.

“Jeez, Walthers, if you keep looking at me like that, I…” Guerrero’s grinning and closing his eyes calmly. “I’m gonna get the wrong idea in my head…”

But Jensen doesn’t care and is not even surprised that Guerrero managed to notice his gaze, which he tried to hide carefully. He’s much more worried about the companion’s sick look and huge bags under his eyes.

“Are you sleeping badly, or do you have a Nu-poz deficiency?” Jensen asks as straightforward as usual, without any hesitation.

Mejia’s laughing hoarsely, but contrary to Adam’s expectations is not avoiding the question, “Both, and the lack of alcohol… Shit, I’d really be drinking right now, don’t care what exactly…”

Probably, in any other situation with any other person, Adam wouldn’t do what he’s going to do now. Jensen reaches under his red jumpsuit and pulls out a bottle of whiskey he managed to steal from some office in the prison’s administration building. Drinking aboard the VTOL, while on the run, still dressed in prison suits is _not_ a good idea, and Jensen is fully aware of this. However, as soon as he catches in the corner of his eye Mejia’s excited glance, Adam realizes that they both need to relax a little.

“Walthers, you son of a bitch, you’ve carried alcohol the whole time and haven’t said a word to me?” Guerrero’s asking in a resentful rather than reproachful way.

Adam’s shrugging and grinning smugly, “I thought you preferred piña colada _only_ , didn’t you, Mejia?”

“Fuck you,” Mejia’s diligently trying to hide a happy smile, “gimme that!”

Guerrero drinks quickly and eagerly, taking big sips as if that’s all he was waiting for. He drinks almost halfway through the bottle and erotically licks whiskey drops off his lips. There’s a thought in Adam’s head that he has never seen anyone who drinks _this_ lewdly in his whole life. Even Detroit’s hookers were more modest somehow.

He is distracted by the droplets flowing down Mejia’s adam’s apple to the point where he doesn’t hear the question right away, “Wanna drink too, Walthers?”

Of course, Jensen drinks, almost as eagerly as Mejia. His throat unbearably dried from the Arizona heat, prison break, and from… oddly enough, Guerrero. Adam never had a problem defining his sexual orientation. He was definitely attracted to women, and he had relationships only with them. However, Jensen noticed male charm as well. He saw something special about Pritchard, admired how young Sarif looks, and, to his own surprise, found MacReady’s rough masculinity appealing. And now sharp and hot Guerrero with a languorous tinge in his voice. And… _«The heat almost unbearable in the VTOL…»_

“ _Hey!_ Don’t drink it all!”

Mejia takes the bottle away deftly, running his fingers over Adam’s hands almost weightlessly. Once again, Jensen regrets that he’s not capable of feeling anything with his hands anymore. When Mejia turns his attention to whiskey again, the thought _«Why not?»_ comes to Adam’s mind. Maybe Guerrero wouldn’t mind if...

“What, you want some more?” Hector’s grinning and running his tongue over the bottle neck. “There’s one sip left, and, honestly, I’m not eager to share it, but if you…”

“Drink it up.”

“Seriously?” Guerrero’s chuckling in surprise. “You’re a kind guy, agent..?”

“Drink up already, Mejia.”

Hector laughs and, having finished the bottle, lies down on the bench, putting hands under his head. He fixes his gaze on him, and Adam realizes he cannot dodge _this_ question.

“No, seriously, Walthers, that’s not fair,” Mejia’s saying resentfully, in a sluggish from alcohol voice, “you know my real name, but I don’t know yours. Where’s equality?”

“You’d better get some sleep, you don’t look so good.”

“Hey, don’t change the subject!” Mejia’s jumping from the bench and instantly falling back with a groan, causing Jensen to deal with discordant emotions. Adam about to approach him immediately, but Mejia shaking his head.

“That’s all right…” Guerrero’s waving hand in his direction, shrugging off his concern. “I guess I really need some sleep... Wake me up once we reach the place, okay?”

He looks pretty damn bad, alcohol didn’t help him much. And Adam feels a bit guilty that he let him drink almost the entire bottle by himself.

“Mejia, you need Neuropozyne,” Adam states the fact, doesn’t ask a question.

“Yeah…” Hector’s squeezing out an exhausted smile. “But it’s nowhere to be seen, and you probably don’t have it either… Right?”

“Right…”

“Relax, man,” Mejia’s closing his eyes, ready to fall asleep. “Sleep will be good for me, and when we get to Panama, we’ll get our hands on as much Nu-poz as we want.”

“I remember you said the same thing about piña colada?” Adam’s clarifying, and Mejia’s bursting into barking laughter.

And that for a split second allows Adam to ease a little. The tense and steaming atmosphere slowly fades away, relegated to the background, which leads the agent to realization – this is _not_ the time to think about something else. They must come back to Interpol alive – _this_ is the most important thing now.

“I’ll wake you up, Mejia,” Adam’s making himself comfortable on the bench. “When we get there, we’ll definitely run into troubles. We’ll have to run away, you need strength for that.”

“What about you?” Guerrero’s asking hoarsely.

“I’m okay. Get some sleep.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Hector’s barely managing to get his tongue around words. “But once we arrive, tell me your real name…”

Jensen nods, even though Mejia doesn’t see it, and after a couple of minutes, he lets out a sigh of relief, hearing his partner’s deep, steadying breathing.

Staying awake is simple, but it’s difficult not to look at Guerrero’s trembling eyelashes and how he hugs himself tightly so as not to shake from withdrawal. For the first time in his life, Adam hates the fact he doesn’t need Nu-poz. After all, if he needed it, the cherished vial would’ve definitely ended up in the pocket of his red jumpsuit.

And would’ve saved Mejia’s life.

So, they’ll have to hope to be lucky enough to find Neuropozyne as soon as they can after landing. Otherwise, if they can’t… No, Adam won’t let one more person die in his arms. He _will_ complete his mission. And then, who knows… Maybe Jensen will allow himself something more than just curiously staring at Guerrero.

***

“Guerr… Mejia, wake up,” Adam is lightly touching Hector’s shoulder. “We’ve just landed. It’s suspiciously quiet outside… That’s bad.”

Mejia has a hard time waking up, he looks much worse than before he fell asleep. This makes Adam nervously swear under the breath. If they get caught by security now – they’ll be fucked. The guards will shoot on sight without any questions.

“Can you still activate your cloaking system?” Jensen’s asking quietly. “If so, when the door opens, we’ll manage to slip past them.”

“And then _what_?” Guerrero’s snarling either out of anger at himself for helplessness or because of Jensen’s questionable plan. “The fuck are we gonna do in these prison jumpsuits? How far can we escape like this?”

“We’ll come up with something. It’s the only plan I have. So, can you do it?”

Mejia’s taking a deep breath, exhaling loudly, and listening to the ringing silence, then answering huskily, “Yes. I can. But truly don’t know how long I’ll last…”

Adam would like to say that he can handle it, and there’s nothing to worry about, but... Guerrero is visibly trembling, he obviously has a fever. And needs Nu-poz _badly_. _Right now_. They would’ve been lucky to find it here. And if they won’t get caught. Adam never believed in God, let alone asked him for anything. But at the moment, he desperately wants to ask for the miraculous salvation from a non-existent, omnipotent being.

“I’m not dying,” Guerrero’s wheezing suddenly as if reading all of Adam’s emotions, which somehow slipped through the serious, impenetrable expression on his face. “We can sneak past those dumbasses, and then… Well, then it’s gonna be a bit tricky. But they probably have some Nu-poz, so all we need to do is to… Hah… Waddle in the right direction... Let’s go.”

He gets up on his own without Jensen’s help, snaps at him childishly when he gives him a hand and activates Glass Shield without waiting for the command. Adam follows him, cautiously opens the door, and freezes against VTOL’s wall, waiting for a machine-gun burst. But it didn’t happen – only quiet sounds are heard, hinting that the guards have pointed their firearms at them.

“What the..?” the bewildered whispering makes Adam chuckle.

“I’ll go first and check it out, cover me,” someone’s barking abruptly, and Jensen’s holding his breath so as not to make an extra sound.

Mejia was right – sneaking past the security was easy, almost too easy. But having reached the hiding spot, Adam stops in hesitation, as he doesn’t know whether Mejia followed him or not. The way to make sure he’s still nearby is risky, but Adam can’t think up another one.

“Guerrero?” he’s calling for him in a quiet voice.

There’s no response.

“Shit… Guer…”

“Guerrero, Guerrero. I’ve told you, call me Mejia…”

Thank goodness.

“You okay?”

“Pretty much fucked up,” Hector’s admitting honestly. “Energy’s running out soon.”

Adam can’t see the look on Mejia’s face but senses how tense his voice sounds as if he is holding on with his last ounce of strength. He has to take a risk, get to the guard post, and steal Nu-poz as fast as possible, while Guerrero still can remain invisible. It would be a good idea to grab a security uniform as well... Maybe they will be able to blend in with the guards.

“Wait here, don’t go anywhere,” Adam’s tossing, and peering carefully out of hiding place.

“Where the fuck am I gonna go?” Mejia’s hissing sarcastically in response.

Luck is definitely on their side today because Adam stumbles upon Neuropozyne almost as soon as he gets into the main security office. Conveniently, there are also the uniforms, and all of this guarded by only one person. All the other guards are patrolling the perimeter, looking for two particularly dangerous Augs, without even suspecting that they are under their noses.

When Adam returns to Hector, he’s already run out of energy and looked awful. Even though he says he is not dying, Jensen doesn’t really believe it and is scared shitless.

_«Hector is **not** Katrina»._ Of fucking course he isn’t! Why even compare them? Why the hell are such thoughts getting into his head right now?

“Come on, Walthers, give me the shot,” Mejia’s whispering and licking dry lips, and this time doing it not lewdly at all, “and for fucks sake, take that expression off your face, or I’ll gonna cry right now…”

Even at this point, Guerrero’s managing to be sarcastic, which is causing Adam to grin a little.

Nu-poz has been injected, and they’re wearing guards’ uniforms, but there are still problems they’ll have to deal with. How do they make it to Panama without triggering any security alerts? Considering that one looks like a walking dead, while the other has the augmentations in plain sight.

“Let’s steal one of the cars,” Mejia’s suggesting and nodding towards the parking lot. “Knock guards out, and I’ll do the break-in.”

“Too dangerous. How will we leave the area? Everybody’s looking for runaway criminals, the guards are watchfully roaming around, and here we are – decided to take a ride?..”

“I’ve got an idea, you just have to trust me… Okay?”

To trust someone… Is not an easy task for Jensen. And it’s not that he doesn’t trust Mejia, it’s just a good chance that everything will fall apart. He’d have preferred to do everything himself, not involve Guerrero in this, not to put him at risk. But Hector looks at him persistently and bites his lip nervously. And this look breaks something in Adam’s soul.

“All right, wait here.”

He does as Mejia asks: unnoticeably knocks out the guards, and after that waits for his partner to deal with the alarm system. Adam is breathing heavily, his energy is almost depleted, and if Guerrero’s plan doesn’t work, they are definitely screwed.

“Done! It’s all set, get in the backseat and hide your hands,” Mejia’s saying and getting behind the wheel. “I’ll drive, and then we’ll switch places.”

“Would you mind filling me in about your wonderful plan?” Jensen’s asking while doing as he was told.

“Stay quiet.”

When they arrive at the main gate, Adam has a tight knot of anxiety in his stomach. The guards look at them with deep suspicion, and Jensen tries not to stare back so they wouldn’t notice his artificial eyes.

“Hey! Didn’t you hear the order?!” one of the officers is wailing angrily into the megaphone. “ _Do not leave the area!_ The territory is cordoned off in search of criminals!”

Adam’s struggling to suppress his desire to jump out of the car and sending this loudmouth straight to hell. He must trust Guerrero. Must trust his plan.

When the inspector goes down, he lowers the headgear to cover his eyes and hides his prosthetic hands behind the back of the seat. Guerrero impatiently drums his fingers on the wheel, and it seems to Adam as a rhythm of their funeral march.

“Are you both deaf?” the guard’s growling and jabbing his finger at Hector’s chest, right through the open window. “Where the fuck are you think you’re going?”

Well… Shit.

Adam’s slowly taking out his nanoblade, ready to slit the guard’s throat at any moment, so then Mejia will press the gas into the floor, and…

“Are _you_ deaf or what?!” Guerrero’s tense voice grates on the ears. “Did you hear what the boss said? The wanted criminals are Augs with an installed cloaking system. These bastards could’ve left the territory a hundred times already, and we’ve been sitting here on our asses all this time! We were sent to check the perimeter outside if you weren’t getting it.”

Adam pauses with a discreetly drawn blade. The guard hesitates with the baffled look on his face. And Guerrero…

“Damn it, they’ll fucking leave the territory if they haven’t done this already! You know whom I’ll point out in the report, in that case, as the one who interfered with the capture, eh? Don’t you guess?”

The deafening silence puts pressure on nerves. Adam’s paranoia almost takes over him when the guard slowly walks away from the car.

“Meji…” he’s starting hoarsely, feeling the instinct of self-preservation creeping up to his throat.

“Shut up,” Guerrero is surprisingly calm, confident, which is making Adam chuckle perplexedly. “Look, he’s letting us through…”

And really, the gates are diverging with a nasty creak in a different direction, and the lousy loudmouth is yelling into the megaphone, no longer as angry as he used to, “Drive through! Now!”

Jensen hesitantly retracts the blade while Mejia takes them through the gate. They drive off a few hundred meters from the base and then switch places.

“Don’t take a direct route,” Guerrero’s whispering wearily, rubbing his temples, “these fuckheads will notice our deception soon and set off in pursuit… It will be safer to get to the center in a roundabout way… Do you know how to get in touch with headquarters?”

“Yes. There is a hotel in Panama, where our contact is waiting for us. As soon as we find him, he’ll immediately inform the HQ, and they’ll send a helicopter for us to get out of here.”

“Fucking great…”

“You’d better get some rest,” Adam’s throwing a glance at Guerrero, who’s sprawled in the backseat, “and you’ll get more Neuropozyne at the hotel.”

Hector laughs, huskily and tiredly. Obviously, he has no strength to argue, so he just nods his head. However, before falling asleep, he’s suddenly coming out with, “You don’t need Nu-poz, do you, Walthers?”

Jensen doesn’t turn around, but senses Mejia’s mischievous grin, knows that he’s satisfied with his guess. Adam would like to argue, ward off any suspicions, and come up with the obvious lie that he managed to inject himself with Nu-poz at the base or that he simply has more willpower than Guerrero. But he just doesn’t want to lie anymore. He had enough of undercover games.

“Yeah, something with my DNA,” Adam’s briefly looking over his shoulder, “my body doesn’t reject augmentations, but rather… Gets accustomed to it.”

He expects any reaction from his confession. _Any_ , but certainly _not this one_. Guerrero whistles admiringly, as if he had seen something beautiful, and then leans forward and hovers right over Jensen’s ear.

“You’re just perfect in every sense, agent,” he’s whispering breathy with the sarcastic sneer. “I bet your name sounds perfect, too?”

Of course, when the situation became convenient, Mejia immediately reminded him of the promise given in the VTOL. Now he can’t escape it, so Adam’s breathing out huffily, rolling his eyes, “Adam Jensen.”

And Mejia whistles again, this time with a note of gleeful chortle.

“Ha, sounds better than ‘Walthers’,” Mejia’s leaning back on the seat. “Can I call you ‘Jensen’ now?”

“So I can call you ‘Guerrero’?”

“Like hell you can,” Hector shrugging his shoulders irritably. “Just… Just keep calling me ‘Mejia’. I’m not yet… I’m still not used to… Well, you know.”

_«Being out of Junkyard»,_ – that’s what Mejia wants to say. It is written all over his face, and Adam nods in understanding. It’s his choice; Jensen is not going to forcibly pull Guerrero out of his past ‘life’. He believes the agent will return to his true self when they start investigating the threat of a possible terrorist attack. But now…

Now Jensen’s looking at Mejia, who has fallen asleep already, while he was pondering what to say. Adam allows himself to gaze at Guerrero’s relaxed expression for a moment before keeping his eyes on the road again.

***

“What did they say?” Mejia’s unexpectedly ringing voice is taking Jensen away from his reflections.

They successfully reached the hotel, miraculously escaping from the local security that was following them. The said contact wasn’t found immediately, they had a hard time looking for him, but the final goal was achieved at last, and communication with the headquarters was established.

“The helicopter will arrive tomorrow, we’re staying here for the time being,” Adam’s ruffling through his hair to help dry it up quicker after a shower.

Guerrero grins with satisfaction as he takes a drag on his cigarette. Once again, Jensen was right. There are heaps of Nu-poz here and piña colada as well, what a miracle! And they were given rather a gorgeous hotel room. Even for such elite agents like them.

“You know, Jensen,” Guerrero’s uttering with a smile; he’s already had time to fully enjoy the pronunciation of Adam’s real name. “Even though I can’t stand our HQ, _sometimes_ I just adore them. For this, at least. We’ve got the luxurious hotel suite, man.”

“Don’t forget about piña colada,” Adam’s responding with the same grin.

“…And cigarettes, and Nu-poz,” Mejia’s continuing to list. “Would be fucking awesome to get hookers, too…”

“Don’t you think you’re being insolent, Mejia?”

“May I dream, Jensen? Why do you have to ruin it?” and Adam’s laughing mutedly at his fake irritation.

Guerrero still looks a bit shabby and pale after all this turmoil, but in much better shape. At least he doesn’t look like a living dead now, and that’s good. But Adam…

“You haven’t slept in over twenty-four hours,” Hector’s noticing. “The bags under your eyes are something else…”

“Same about you,” Adam’s retorting, drinking his glass of piña colada, although he would like to have a whiskey. “I’ll sleep when they come to pick us up.”

“Did you bump your head somewhere? Or the control chip affects you like that? You need to sleep, so lie down on the damn bed, it’s right here.”

“But there is only one bed. And it’s two of us,” Jensen’s hoarsely sighing. “And you still need to rest if you don’t want to pass out.”

“So? Let’s lie together, we’ll fit in. What’s the problem?”

Jensen almost chokes on piña colada out of surprise when he hears this offer. Lie together. With Guerrero. When he hasn’t been with someone in almost a year. _Lie. Together. With. Guerrero._ He’s more than sure he’ll get a hard-on on him.

The thought pounds on the brain, on the ears, on the heart, and if it hadn’t been for Jensen’s colossal self-control, it would’ve reached his dick as well.

Adam’s taking a quick glance at Guerrero and answering as confidently as possible, “No, I’ll sleep on the floor.”

He feels that his voice gives out his anxiety and curses to himself but decides not to turn around to Hector. Just on principle. Even when Guerrero’s saying with a groan, “Oh, come on! I promise I won’t kick you in my sleep.”

“I’ve told you already – no.”

He doesn’t look at him but can sense his sharp gaze. And it makes Adam feel uncomfortable at some point.

“Hold on a sec,” Mejia’s letting out a snicker, that making Jensen twitch. “You haven’t shared a bed with anyone but your women before? Is it too much for you?”

The blood rushes to Adam’s ears. For some reason, Mejia’s voice began to sound so much hotter than before. _«Is this because of the alcohol? Or because of the growing arousal?»_

Adam squeezes the glass in his hand until it crackles hoping to get rid of his inappropriate desire. _«Not now. Not here. Dammit, not even with him. I need to find someone else, someone with whom I won’t have a joint mission. Someone not from Interpol. Not Mejia»_.

“I’m turning off the lights,” Adam’s trying to nip everything in the bud before it’s too late.

But hell, incredibly stubborn Guerrero grabs Adam by the wrist of his prosthetic arm and, almost forcefully, pushes him onto the bed. _«And where did he get the strength from?..»_

“Lie down, Jensen,” Hector’s laughing while holding Adam’s hands with an iron grip. “And stop wriggle like this, damn it, I’m not going to force myself on you. Relax and try to sleep, then I’ll let you go, okay?”

Jensen has Eye-Shields retracted and can’t hide his darting nervous glance. Mejia’s breath on his neck tickling, teasing as he looms over him. It’s better to surrender than endure such torture. And Adam gives in and settles down, quietly asks to turn off the lights, faster, so Guerrero won’t have time to figure anything out.

“See?” Mejia’s deftly moving aside. “I keep my word, so you keep yours too, Jensen.”

He does so, but rolls back to the other side of the bed, almost to the edge, which causing Hector to chuckle again. But fortunately, he is not going to be snide and does nothing provocative anymore.

“Good night,” Mejia’s muttering sleepily, and Adam’s just humming softly in response.

The night is going to be a _long_ one; Jensen recognizes this from his raging boner that’s refused to subside. Jerking off under the blanket while the person, who caused such arousal, sleeps next to him at arm’s length is a crappy idea. So Jensen grits his teeth and makes a few poor attempts to fall asleep, after which he rolls onto his back, taking a look at the peacefully, softly breathing Mejia. In the moonlight, his face is even more attractive, which doesn’t help the situation at all.

_«Fuck it,»_ Jensen’s carefully dangling his legs off the bed. _«I need to ask for another room before it’s too late»._

Step and another one… But who said he would be allowed to walk away so easily?

He feels the hands wrapping him around the waist, pulling him back to bed. Jensen growls quietly when Mejia pulls him closer and pressed against him, gently nuzzling his neck.

“So you haven’t been sleeping?” Adam’s asking hushedly, while delicately trying to free himself from the embrace, but no such luck. “Or how the hell did you wake up?”

Mejia’s laughing lightly, giving Adam unexpected goosebumps.

“People like us are awfully light sleepers, you know it pretty well yourself,” Hector’s tenderly moving his lips alongside the neck, whereas Adam’s biting his tongue so as not to let out a moan. _«The hell is he doing? Did he really figure everything out?»_

“You’re not so good at lying, Adam,” Guerrero’s saying as if reading his mind. The sudden call by his first name makes the atmosphere even hotter, although, it would seem it couldn’t get any hotter. “And even worse at hiding your hard-on. I noticed it back in the VTOL and thought I misunderstood things, but now…”

Hector’s tongue leaves a wet trail on the neck, and Adam arches his back, trying to either move away or snuggle closer.

“…But now I see what this is about,” Hector’s breathing hot, husky as if he is feverish again. “Chill out, I want you, too.”

And now Adam’s starting to feel like he is in a fever. Not from fatigue or suppression chip failure, but from the desire burning inside, ignited by Guerrero’s words temptingly whispered in his ear. _«He wants me. Now. He wants me as much as I want him»._

Adam Jensen has the iron will, but sometimes it could crash.

“Huh, Jensen, are you alri…”

Adam turns to Mejia sharply, suddenly, pulling him even closer and almost biting into hot lips, feeling how soft they are, no resisting at all, and feeling how Guerrero kisses him back with obvious passion. The ex-cop almost growls from pleasure when their tongues meet each other. Because of how stunning Guerrero is, or because he hasn’t had intimacy for a long time, the reason is not important, but Adam feels that he’s losing control over himself, his craving unbearably strong now.

When they break the long kiss so as to catch their breath, Hector lets out an airy laugh that slightly confuses Adam, giving him a seed of doubt. But that doubt quickly vanishes when Mejia presses against him again, this time kissing his chest, and then lower, lower, leaving a wet trail down to the very bottom of the abdomen just a centimeter away from the throbbing erection.

Hector’s looking up at him, his eyes clouded with desire, and huskily, barely audibly asking, “So… Should I stop now, or you want me to continue?”

Adam doesn’t answer right away, simply because he can’t. Because of the risk to utter rough bestial growl instead, and he has no intention to push Mejia away with such sound, though his gut feeling tells, that it more likely will give him more incentives to continue. So Adam silently but meaningfully presses his body against Guerrero’s hot mouth, waiting for him to continue.

Hector doesn’t need any other hints. He nimbly settles down between his legs, allowing Adam’s hand to run through his hair and squeeze it forcefully to set the pace. Obviously, Guerrero is quite experienced at giving head, otherwise Adam cannot find any other explanation for the way he closes his eyes in pleasure and how he fails to hold back his low groans. It took Mejia less than a couple of minutes to make Adam cum from a blowjob.

“That’s not over yet, I hope?” Mejia’s asking mischievously, but not in an offensive way, erotically licking drops of semen off his lips, just like it was with the whiskey back then in the VTOL. “What about my hope for a breathtaking ride?”

_«You shouldn’t have said that»_. It’s a bad idea to tease Jensen when he’s aroused to the point that he’s ready to fuck to death using all his enormous strength. And right now the person to whom he feels such irrepressible desire runs the risk of experiencing this consequence. Fortunately for Guerrero, Adam quickly pulls himself together.

“You’ll get your ride, Hector,” Jensen’s growling gruffly, pinning Guerrero to the bed.

“Hey, I’ve asked you to call me Mej- _…_ Oh, _oooh!.._ ”

The remnants of the clear mind prevent Jensen from thrusting into him hard in a sweeping motion, so in first, he preparing him with his fingers, albeit pushing them a little too rough. But the agent beneath him moans as if he was waiting for this, like he was ready for him, which only further encourages Adam to slam into him without waiting for the end of the preparations.

“Please, _Adam_ , faster!” Mejia’s already sliding Jensen’s fingers in and out himself, moving his hips vigorously towards him. “ _Beggin’ you_ , I’m about to...”

Adam shushes him with a wild kiss and the same wild penetration, receiving a relieved groan and an impassioned response in the form of Mejia’s hot hands lovingly stroking his back.

Only the Icarus Dash can describe the force and speed with which Adam is thrusting into Guerrero now. The greatest encouragement in return to every movement is Hector’s moans, which sound as hot as ever. And also – his tongue, which is pressed against Jensen’s sensitive neck. As if by chance, Hector runs it up to the chin and then, once again, pulls Adam into a heated kiss, which blows away every last vestige of mind.

“ _A-Adam_ … I’m, _oooh!.._ Damn, n-now!..”

Guerrero is trembling under him, so Adam is perfectly feeling how intense orgasm overwhelms the agent. And the mere sight of Hector’s pleasure, the look of pure delight on his face, makes Jensen cum right after him with a moan.

Hell knows how long their breathtaking ride lasted, but it’s past midnight on the clock, so Adam guessing it took about half an hour or so.

“So, you happy now?” He’s saying, slightly grinning, lying on his back and lighting a cigarette in his mouth. “Or you want me to give you another ride?”

“Screw you,” Mejia’s groaning sluggishly, cozily pressing his side against Adam, “better gimme a smoke…”

In response, Adam only exhales a cloud of smoke in his direction.

“Asshole,” Hector’s straightforwardly declaring while poking him in the side.

“Yep.”

They are silent for a long time, much too long: Adam managed to smoke two cigarettes, and Guerrero didn’t even raise an eyebrow. _«What, he has forgotten already, how I called him by his real name during sex?»_

The risk of being punched in the face is insignificant but still there. However, Jensen made the decision anyway.

“Hector?” He’s calling softly, gently touching the top of his head with lips.

Here goes a second. Two. Three.

“Hmm?”

Zero reaction.

“Good night.”

The agent’s another _‘hmm’_ seems to be the comprehensive answer to Adam, so he pulls Guerrero onto his chest, allowing him to settle and comfortable rest on it, and closes his eyes, preparing to fall asleep.

Except, it wasn’t the answer.

“G’night to you too… Adam.”

The whisper is barely audible, but he manages to understand it before finally falling asleep.

***

“What are you going to do next?”

“What? What do you mean?”

“What are you going to do when we’re done with the investigation, you’ll leave Interpol? Is that what you want?”

Hector absolutely doesn’t understand how the next morning began with a fervent rematch and ended with an icy interrogation. Everything was perfectly fine, truly. The ultimate sex on legs was squirming with pleasure beneath him, moaning his name huskily, and pleading for more… And now it’s like he’s lost his mind, but not in a good way, and currently trying to piss Hector off.

_«The ultimate sex on legs whose name is Adam Jensen…»_

Guerrero had never met anyone like that in his whole life. Someone who would be concurrently so beautiful and dangerous.

When Agent Walthers burst into the prison shower room, Hector thought for a moment that he was hallucinating. It took only one glance at him to appreciate how attractive he is. His augmentations, his hair, beard, his voice. His eyes and look, which is attentive and plaintive at the same time. Walthers appeared as the embodiment of celestial essence, sort of. It’s an odd comparison, but Hector just couldn’t come up with another one.

Maybe it was the whole situation, or maybe just Walthers’ excessive idealism, but when he came for him in solitary confinement with that fierce look, demanding answers, Guerrero realized he was more than willing to sacrifice his position in Junkyard and his own mission altogether in order to help the agent with an obviously fake threat of a terrorist attack.

For fuck’s sake, Hector would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that he wants to see such a look in bed. Above him or beneath him, it doesn’t matter just as long as he looks at him. He didn’t hope for anything, it would be stupid. However, no one forbade him from daydreaming.

So he fantasized. Back then, in the VTOL. Maybe he got too carried away when he started guzzling alcohol from the bottle while imagining about sucking Walthers’ dick. Even though, as it turned out, it was worth it.

At first, Hector thought his partner was just glancing at him in curiosity – lingering his gaze on the exposed areas of skin. But he definitely noticed the cockbulge on Walthers’ pants after he stopped drinking and began licking the whiskey droplets off his lips. Pleasantly surprised, but not fully assured, Guerrero decided to monitor the situation just in case. Although he saw a direct hint that Walthers wanted the same as him, he wasn’t entirely convinced that _he **is** the one_ the agent desired. Maybe it’s just the alcohol, after all.

But then…

Their adventures on the run. Walthers’ gaze full of worry and something else, something resembling well-concealed emotions. His real name, and his husky, nervous voice when Hector teased him – everything fell into place. Adam Jensen wanted him, _wanted to be with him_.

And after that, it wasn’t so difficult for Guerrero to prepare himself for the next move and tease Jensen in such a way so the agent could finally show his desire and arousal, so he could free himself from the restraints and fears that bothered him. _«What was the reason he couldn’t make up his mind that long, and why?»_

Of course, afterwards, Hector didn’t mind when Adam called him by his real name. He has never been a scumbag for whom sex was a mere formality meaning nothing in the future. In the Junkyard, he had to pretend to be someone he’s never been by the name ‘Oscar Mejia’. And now, there’s only Hector Guerrero. The bewildered agent who clearly understands that he doesn’t want from Jensen only physical intimacy.

He just needs, wants Adam himself. As a person. As a partner. As someone who’ll help him get back to a relatively normal life after all this fucked up shit that happened to him on the mission. He… Feels deep affection for Adam. _«Yep, that’s the right words… For the time being »._

Guerrero sees Jensen as a reflection of himself. Adam, too, is lost, torn apart with doubts, uncertainties, and in dire need of someone to support him, to watch his back, considering how often he puts himself at risks.

Hector is more than ready to be that someone for him.

And when Jensen hissed out at him, snapping into desperate tones in voice, Guerrero understands it more than ever. Adam Jensen needs him. And he needs Adam Jensen. _They need each other, want to be with each other._ Such a simple truth, and it makes him laugh softly from relief.

“Wh… What’s so funny?” Jensen’s swiftly grabbing his arm, pulling slightly shivering Guerrero closer to himself. “The hell are you…?!”

“Relax, I’m not going anywhere,” Hector’s answering through cheery laughter. And Adam’s looking at him dumbfounded, slowly blinking in confusion, causing him to chuckle again.

“Mejia…” Jensen’s whispering hoarsely in response.

“ _Hector_ ,” Guerrero’s immediately correcting him. “Enough of this farce already.”

And while Jensen ponders what to say, he reaches for him, pulling him into a slow, confident kiss. Adam responds briskly, explores his mouth shamelessly with tongue, and cuddles him a bit too tight as if he is afraid that Hector might disappear at any moment.

Guerrero terribly wants to go further and topple him on the bed, nipping on his neck and leaving rough hickeys as a reminder that he’s here and not going anywhere. But the helicopter is already waiting, so Hector reluctantly breaks the kiss.

“I think we should go,” he is saying in a voice husky with desire, trying to gently shake Adam’s hands off his back. “They are tired of waiting for us.”

“They’ll have to wait a little longer,” Jensen’s whispering in his ear temptingly, making Guerrero growl in frustration.

“Fuck, you hungry piece of work… We’ll continue when we get home, okay?”

“At _home_?”

“At your place. At your home, Jensen. Or do you think I have a place to live? I’ve been in the Junkyard for two fucking years; I don’t have a shit except my personal Interpol account.”

Adam hesitates, which Guerrero takes advantage of, deftly escaping from the firm embrace.

“C’mon, let’s go. Or they’ll really leave us here if we stay for a few more minutes.”

Hector doesn’t look back, on principle. Even as he walks through the corridors of the hotel, listening to the soft rhythmic steps behind him and feeling the piercing gaze on his back. There’s no time to think about what happens next when they complete their mission. The most important now is to come back to Interpol and keeps their hands off each other in the helicopter.

And then, who knows…

Maybe he will stay with Adam forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of love to wonderful Tanager for the great support and encouragement, and proofreading! <3  
> And thanks to everyone for reading, I really appreciate your attention!:)


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